Per the Rules
by D-chan
Summary: So long as they follow the rules, they have no qualms meeting in secret and expressing their passions. PART III: "This entire time, he'd been challenging her. Telling her what she did no longer excited him as it should. That it was all routine."
1. Per the Rules

I do not own The Vampire Diaries, any characters within, or BDSM.

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><p>In the darkness he sat, his hands splayed in a feeble attempt of calm upon his knees. A dark cloth wound several times around his eyes. Pathetic attempt of moonlight bled into the room from the tall slats near the ceiling.<p>

Gray set the mood. Thick slabs of cement made up the walls and ceiling, with the only source of comfort being the thick, pillowy rainstorm colored carpeting. Carpeting she could not yet enjoy. Though her prey was blinded—hopefully—she wore white boots that stopped short of her knees. He'd once claimed to "not dislike" them, and ever since had shown quiet appreciation for her ability to comprehend his cryptic words.

She kept her eyes upon her prey as she quietly stalked toward him. His breathing hitched, indicating he heard her. His fingers barely twitched in acknowledgment.

He better not be able to see her. That was the agreement. And breaking the rules bore dire costs.

Silent to the human ear, she continued to creep forward at her own pace. One of her hands ran down her bare side, gliding over the sheer white lace that covered little more than a bikini bottom. He gave no indication he saw. This cautiously pleased her.

Behind the old wooden chair he sat upon were two sets of shackles. Fat chunks of chain coiled on the floor, leading one pair of restraints to the ceiling, and the other to the wall behind her prey. She finally ended up behind him. Hefting one of the shackles, she continued to observe him for any signs of his cheating.

Still nothing.

Yet.

His ears visibly twitched as the chains clanked with her movements. Deftly, her hands clad with soft, worn white leather, she took one of his wrists and raised it before clasping the shackle to him.

"Who are you?" he demanded. His voice was rough, his breathing deceptively even. It made her smile; he was good, but by now she could read his subtle moves. A part of him still feared someone other than her had caught him in such a vulnerable position.

She refused to answer him, instead turning to the wall and tugging the chains through the back loop until his arm was parallel to the floor and at a slight angle behind her prey.

This new move caused her prey to become wary. Usually he was hung from the ceiling.

"Answer me," he snarled.

She didn't have to—yet. That was the agreement.

Instead she briefly brushed her hand over his face. His head turned, and she imagined behind his blindfold his eyes had narrowed. No tell-tale smug smile spoke of confident knowledge. And it wouldn't. She never wore the same perfume more than once—she couldn't. And if she went _au naturel_, he would know it was her in a heartbeat.

The mystery kept it exciting for him. And his tension stirred hungry sensations deep within her belly.

She traced insignificant lines from the swell of muscle in his shoulder down to his other wrist. Though she badly wanted to place her lips upon him, that was both a dead giveaway and, thus far, an unearned gift. Wistfully, she picked up another shackle and brought it around his wrist.

Her prey tensed. Every corded muscle along his back was ready to spring into action, prepared to fight to the death.

Before tightening the chains, she murmured into his ear, "Of course it's me. Unless you found another mistress."

His reaction was primal in the most enticing ways. The coiled agony swept away from him, while the telling bulge beneath his jeans swelled. "I could never," he breathed, that awful smirk toying on his lips.

She pulled on the chains, yanking his arm sharply toward the ceiling and reveling in his hiss of pain. "You could never what?" she demanded.

Arching his back, her prey allowed his head to loll back toward her. He'd passed the test; the blindfold was solid, yet she knew he was straining to catch even the slightest glimpse of her.

"I could never, Caroline," he said mockingly.

Her vision tunneled, and Caroline responded with a sharp slap across his face. He didn't try to break free, but it wiped the smile off his face.

With grating reluctance, he amended his claim. "I could never find another." He paused emphatically. "My _Mistress_."

Her gaze softened. Pity he couldn't see it. Caroline leaned down, resting her hand in gentle juxtaposition where she'd just slapped him. Her lips pressed against his, and he responded like a starving man. For the moment, she allowed herself to be lost in the heated fullness of his lips. But when he attempted to slip some tongue, she pulled back fiercely to the tune of his greedy groan.

Caroline returned her attention to his restraints, ordering him to stand so she could further pull his right arm toward the heavens. He obeyed, if not without question.

"You could loosen them a little," he snapped, shaking his other wrist for emphasis.

Caroline arched an eyebrow. "Seriously? After you ruined my lingerie last time?"

"You hardly complained in the moment."

"Fool me once, Klaus," she warned him, deciding to pull his left arm restraint back an inch more than necessary.

"All in the name of pleasure, love."

"Whose? Don't answer that," she added. "That was rhetorical."

Klaus bared his teeth to show off his deadly charming grin.

The shackles could hold any vampire, even without the poison of vervain. The herb was not a line they had agreed to cross just yet, which was why they had found his discrete underground hiding spot. (Or, Caroline often suspected, Klaus had compelled some unlucky humans into building a suspect underground sex dungeon.) But as a hybrid, Klaus' edge of strength could break him free.

Still, precautions had to be taken. Like the vervain-less shackles, and her unspoken promise to prove who she was before he was wholly restrained. Klaus was not a man to easily give up mobility and freedom.

Except to her.

Caroline strode to a corner of the room, fishing a key from her wedding-white bra. She crouched and unlocked the old, ungodly large chest where they kept their . . . accoutrements.

"You are trying my patience, love," Klaus sneered.

She scoffed, returning with what she wanted. And then she pressed herself against him, amused and flushed with pleasure as he struggled to be closer to her. Firm muscle met the curve of her breasts when Klaus writhed, and he allowed himself to moan. His heady breath threatened to intoxicate her.

Languidly, Caroline wrapped her arms around him. It was so difficult not to shiver in admiration from how toned he kept his body. The cut lines of muscle alone were enough to moisten her panties. She danced her lower half away from him—not that it mattered. Klaus inhaled deeply.

"You like smelling me." It was more a statement than a question.

Klaus groaned in appreciation. He twisted his head, so that his stubble roughened her cheek. "Even if you didn't insist on blinding me, I couldn't stop myself," he swore.

Biting down on a gleeful grin, Caroline used her empty hand to reach down and rub his arousal through his ever-restrictive jeans. Klaus bucked into her touch, his growl so deep it came from his wolf side more than human or vampire.

"Flattery gets you nowhere," she told him icily. Though she continued to rub him, her other hand worked the scissors and began to cut what scant clothing he had.

Klaus yanked on his chains, snarling when it got him little to nowhere. The awkwardness of one arm above and the other behind seemed to pay off. Pleased with her ingenuity, Caroline knelt and abandoned the pretense of scissors. She tore the rest of his pants before the implements hit the cushioned floor.

He jerked again, and voiced his displeasure upon discovering she had moved away. "On the contrary, love," he said. "Flattery appears to get me precisely what I want."

Willing to concede, Caroline folded her arms beneath her breasts and flashed him a smile he couldn't see. "Tell me what you want," she murmured. All the while she admired his audacity to go commando. After all, the way home was quite a trek, and now he had no clothes.

Heat spilled from his tongue. "I want to have you beneath me. I wish to pleasure you until morning, first with my mouth, and then with my cock."

Delightful as that sounded, Caroline knew she couldn't just acquiesce. "Try again."

Klaus's tongue traced over his lip momentarily. "Might I at least taste you?"

Oh, yes. The mere memory of what that mouth could do to her clit rose Caroline's body temperature to fevered heights. But she kept her voice frosty. "Maybe later, when I'm finished with you."

Patience was not his strong suit. Klaus' arms strained. It was not quite a serious effort, but both his need and cock were swelling. Caroline couldn't help but stare. Oh, why had she forced him to stand? If he'd been sitting, she could have given in and grinded on his cock unto her own orgasms.

"Then use the whip," he growled.

That caused her eyebrows to shoot up. Caroline spun and headed back for the trunk, hoping no small sound had betrayed her surprise. While the whip had never been excluded, nor had it yet been explicitly allowed.

She drew it from the box and walked back, rubbing her fingers along the handle admiringly. The base was made of solid yew, with true leather whips. A cat o' nine tails in the truest sense—but with common white oak at the tips rather than simple plaits.

Caroline tested her snap a few times. Once she heard the beautiful, resounding _crack!_ and Klaus jerked in anticipation, she knew she had her momentum.

She walked around him, pausing to trace his bare skin with her fingertips now and then. Often she would pause, cracking the whip now and then just to watch his swollen, obviously aching cock twitch.

As it was her first time, Caroline took her first shot at his back.

Klaus's shout accompanied the red that welled out of his wounds. They didn't heal for a few seconds, and then his flesh stitched itself right back up.

"Fucking Originals," she muttered without thinking.

A hoarse laugh was his response, and Caroline punished him with another lashing. She repeated this at her leisure, whipping him once or twice, allowing the wounds to heal, and doing it again. While to the untrained ear his cries might sound like sheer agony, Caroline caught that distinct note of raging pleasure.

Klaus, a sadist in every other aspect of his life, had proven to embrace masochism in the bedroom. And if his words were to believed, Caroline was the only woman he had ever handed complete control to.

Between lashings, her lover ranted with that lustful accent. "I promise you, when this is over I will take you to my home and fuck you as iI/i intend." _Crack!_ "If you think I won't repay this tenfold, you are mistaken, sweetheart." _Crack!_ "Damn it, Caroline, _I will make you pay for this_."

Every threat frightened her, yet somehow fed into her arousal. Caroline was embarrassed to admit she couldn't walk without the dripping wet reminder of how horribly effective this was on her as well.

"I'm sure you will," she managed to say condescendingly. _Crack!_

This time she fell to her knees before his wounds healed. Klaus' rasping gasps shortened as she took his cock into her mouth.

And how _wonderful_ it was, she realized. She'd been just as hungry to please him as he threatened he was to her. Fortunately for her, at his vantage Klaus had no real room to fight back with any significant power. He was helpless to the ministrations of her lips and tongue, and Caroline took full advantage of him in that moment.

Above her Klaus's chest heaved, and his head rolled back. He rocked as best he could. But Caroline was a vampire—just because she wasn't as strong as him didn't mean she couldn't push back with enough force to drive him still and wild.

"Caroline," he gasped, a violent shudder rendering him momentarily silent. "Not—yet—"

She regretfully took his cock out of her mouth. But just so he wouldn't think she was listening, she snapped, "You don't give orders in this room."

Then she delivered a sharp slap to his throbbing cock.

Klaus heaved a strange sound she'd never heard from him before, torn somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Fascinated, Caroline leaned back on her heels before trying it again.

Klaus jerked violently. A thin sheen of sweat coated him, adding a peculiar light.

"You like that?" Caroline asked.

"Oddly . . . yes," he admitted breathlessly. As she lifted her hand to do it again, he snarled, "You will pay dearly for not clearing that will me first."

Wincing, Caroline agreed. She had broken a cardinal agreement: discuss all kinks and punishments before implementation. Such a thing could shatter trust, and she knew she'd have to earn that back that very night—if not weeks after.

"I'd like to continue," she said firmly. Yet she tried to instill a soothing note to her words, letting him know she would not continue without his permission.

Tension tightened the muscles in Klaus' thighs. He said, "Yes."

Relieved that she probably wasn't going to pay with her life, Caroline delivered another stinging slap. Immediately she swallowed his cock again, following the tingling pain with heat. The combination made Klaus swear above her. His hips bucked in desperate attempt to drive his throbbing member in deeper, but Caroline responded by letting off.

She slowly climbed to her feet, ensuring her lace-cloaked breasts rubbed over as much of him as possible. Klaus growled in appreciation.

"I want you back in the chair," she told him softly, tangling her fingers in his rust-tinged hair. Then Caroline gifted him what she had refused before—a deep, flaming kiss.

Klaus replied with eagerness, sliding his tongue over hers. Despite his position, his mouth did what he made it do best; completely take over. Caroline couldn't help but lose a little control to his kiss. She pressed her hips against his, emitting a small whimper when his cock pressed firmly against her. She knew he felt her wet arousal seeping from her panties, and he proved it by grinding as furiously as he could against her.

And Caroline helped him, wrapping an arm around his back to keep him close. She tugged on his hair, breaking the kiss much to his outrage.

"I'm going to lower you," she whispered.

Klaus didn't respond with words. He bent his head back down and forced another blissfully passionate kiss upon her. Caroline moaned before she could stop herself.

She yanked away, slightly winded and disappointed in herself for caving. She was the mistress. Yes, this was still fairly new for her, but she'd been getting better at it.

So why was she still capitulating to his passion?

She took a moment to calm her tremors before going back to loosen the chains holding his hand toward the heavens. Caroline focused on her work, still kicking herself mentally.

Big mistake on both parts.

Without the shackle holding the arm overhead, Klaus abruptly yanked at the length of metal with a series of horrifying clanks. Caroline whirled in time to see him yank his less fortunate arm free with the deafening snap of metal links.

Within the space of a heartbeat, Caroline had gone from in control to pinned beneath the strongest living creature on the planet. Her blonde hair fell in her face, creating a thin veneer for her to watch her lover through.

"You cheat," she gasped.

Klaus tore the blindfold off, ignoring the fact one of his shackles was still clamped firmly to his wrist. His eyes raked over her, burning with a mixture of righteous fury and the most animalistic lust Caroline had encountered.

"You temptress," he murmured, his breath warm and heady. Without another word, Klaus crushed her mouth with his. She emitted a muffled squeal and clawed at him ineffectually. Her nails took skin and blood, but he'd healed before she could even finish the first swipe downward. Against her lips, Klaus smirked.

He reached down between their writhing bodies, yanking her panties with that formidable tearing sound.

Caroline broke free of his kiss, exclaiming, "_Seriously?_"

"I owe you new ones, sweetheart," he promised, his eyes boring into hers with the intensity of a hurricane. Then, appraising the rest of her as much as he could from atop her, he added, "In black."

Before she could answer, Klaus spread her legs on either side of him and slipped three fingers into her. Caroline let out a desperate moan, unable to keep from rocking against his hand.

Despite herself, she complained, "Black makes me look so sallow."

Klaus chuckled. He began to move his fingers, pressing until he found the spot to make her cry out in bliss. He then began a tempo to drown out all Caroline's other protests, tapping into the deep-set pleasure that would make any woman weak at the knees.

Though he'd turned the tables against her, Caroline fell into that desire to be taken. She rocked against his fingers, aiding his attempts to pleasure her until her cries echoed throughout their secret dungeon.

His eyes alight with desire, Klaus dipped his head down. Before Caroline could comprehend what he was doing, he snagged her bra with his teeth and tore that off as well.

"Oh, come on," she moaned, both at the rhythm of his fingers and what he'd just done.

"At least you have pants to go home in," he reminded her darkly.

Caroline grabbed a handful of his thick hair in response. She tugged.

Klaus ducked down, admiring her breasts with the rough ruggedness of his stubble. Squirming beneath him, Caroline tried to reach for his cock again. But he held all the cards now; from her position, she couldn't hope to reach him.

He seemed to realize this, as he pinned her again, this time by the arm. He then took one of her nipples in his mouth, grazing the nub with his teeth. Caroline cried out and writhed against him.

Heat flowed through her and centered toward her lower belly, building an impossible pressure she prayed would burst.

Klaus did not disappoint her. He had just released her nipple when she came in a gush of sweet-smelling fluid. In that moment he actually paused, focusing intensely upon her as she rode out the orgasm.

Caroline could barely catch her breath before he released her and darted down. His tongue began lapping at her, and Caroline couldn't help but express frustration with her pleasure. She hadn't _said_ he could do that, she'd said _maybe_. . . .

And then that frustration was swept away when he rubbed her slickened clit with the tip of his tongue. The burst of pleasure brought Caroline's focus to one selfish desire. She gave up fighting, instead using her hands to push him down.

Klaus eagerly complied, burying his face into the wicked warmth between her thighs. His groans matched hers as he continued to please her. Within minutes Caroline's next orgasm followed her first—and then the wave just didn't stop, the immense bliss blurring together into one long, quaking flow of pleasure.

When at last he finished, Klaus didn't even give her a chance to catch her breath before he kissed her again. Caroline moaned into his mouth, enjoying the dirty thrill of tasting herself on him.

Never breaking the kiss, Klaus urged her legs up. Not one to simply comply, Caroline wrapped her legs around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders, tightening the muscles in her legs until his cock was fully inside her.

Klaus was the one to tear free, his eyes a frightening mixture of focused and distant. "Caroline," he groaned.

A shiver traveled up her spine as the break gave her moments to appreciate how much he filled her. Already the tip of his cock was beginning to press into that sensitive place within her, and she knew the carpet beneath them would soon be ruined. Again.

She placed a hand on his face, guiding him to look her in the eye. Raw emotion spilled from him, and he seemed to tremble with the self-inflicted agony of holding back.

"Fuck me already," she whispered.

Klaus's eyes darkened and he didn't hesitate to obey. Immediately he began thrusting, and soon even Caroline's sharp cries couldn't mask the sounds of her arousal drenching his cock. She raked her nails down his back repeatedly until her hands soaked with his blood.

And still Klaus didn't stop. He continued to thrust, watching her expressions with fierce, loyal intensity that only heightened Caroline's incredible lust. One of his hands pushed hair back from her face, cradling her cheek with gentleness that contrasted his fierce thrusts.

Winded, yet with no signs of slowing, Klaus growled, "Come for me, love."

His order sent her over the edge, and Caroline complied with abandon. Fireflies swam in her vision for a fraction of a second, and her contractions only made Klaus feel that much larger and fuller within her.

"Klaus, don't stop," she whimpered.

To her dismay, he did—but only for a minute. Klaus pulled away, urged her over and onto her knees. With just that change of position, his natural affinity for inflicting pain and discomfort took over. He shoved Caroline's head down to the carpet, allowing her to turn her face so she could breathe.

To others the act might have seemed degrading—and it was. But it sent thrills through Caroline, and already she ached to have him again.

Her lover only paused to position himself before entering her again. Caroline felt her breath explode out. He pressed down on her a bit harder, making breathing a touch more difficult. This time his furious thrusts caused her to moan and cry out without pause, matching wave after wave of desire that coursed through her. Her body heated, and his cock seemed to swell within her.

Only when Klaus grabbed her hair and pulled did he seem to find his edge and release. He came within her, refusing to stop his searing thrusts until both his and her orgasms rode out completely.

Within seconds he released her—as per their agreement. Once they had both had their fill, the time for roughness was over.

Caroline rolled onto her back, her chest heaving. A quick glance to her left told Klaus's story of exhaustion and smug bliss. She rolled her eyes, yet couldn't help the smile that tugged her lips.

Klaus caught her expression, and matched her smirk. "Fantastic work, as always," he complimented.

"Way to make it sound like a day job," she muttered.

Klaus snorted. "My apologies, then."

Silence dwelled between the two. Then, just as Caroline was about to hunt for her intact clothing, Klaus startled her.

"I realize it's against the rules, but I would like you to rest with me a while still," he said quietly.

Caroline blinked at him, perplexed by his request. It was, in fact, against the agreement. Cuddling or spending the night in any capacity would only foster emotion, and she had been strict on that rule from the get-go.

Yet she somehow had no qualms saying, "I guess _one time_ can't hurt."

Like the mature woman she was, Caroline chose not to comment on Klaus's satisfied grin.


	2. Blur the Lines

While meeting in public wasn't inherently against the rules, Caroline still couldn't believe what her secret tryst-goer had just asked of her. The audacity, the _balls_ this man constantly exceeded her expectations. And he always waited to push beyond her capacity for understanding each time she drew the line in her mind.

She sat back in the creaky chair. Disbelief stained her lips.

_He_ didn't pause. Infuriating calm guided the glass to his full, sensual lips. Yet he didn't take his eyes off her. His gaze glimmered with exciting prospects.

Slowly, Caroline said, "I thought the deal was that _I_ was in charge. As in, all the time. As in, _every_ time."

A capricious smile played across his face. "As a constant, don't you think that seems rather dull?" He kept his deceptively lax posture; shoulders slumped as he leaned onto the table. Though he smelled wonderful, and that damnable smile was enough to stir interest between her thighs.

Thankfully, she couldn't smell herself. And hopefully, neither could he.

Besides, she wasn't about to agree with him. Caroline kept leaning away from him, her arms folded beneath her breasts. When his eyes traveled to the curve of her chest, she couldn't help but feel secretly pleased. Admiration was hardly a terrible thing.

Aloud, she said, "Even if that were true, that doesn't mean I'm down for… that."

He tapped his fingers against the whiskey glass, offering her a mockingly contemplative frown. "If your education videos on the internet possess a sliver of truth," he drawled, "then I believe _that_—as you so delicately attempt to avoid giving the name—is usually called anal sex, love."

Caroline jerked, her eyes darting to see if anybody heard. "Well, yeah, but polite people don't go around _saying_ so in public," she hissed.

Only after she responded did she realize he was purposefully needling her. And his cocky smile gave him away. How he enjoyed eliciting such reactions from her. Particularly when she managed to stay composed for so long.

Fucking Klaus and his fucking confidence and his fucking games.

"Of course not," he replied cheerfully. Conspicuously, he raised both his glass and voice up a notch. "_Polite_ company call it sodomy."

_He did _not _just do that!_ Caroline battled the urge to look around and rapidly lost. Sure enough people were staring, and with far more interest than she wanted.

It had been stupid of her to agree to meet in such a small place. The bar was less a party attraction and more a place for intimate rendezvous. Cloaked in red satins and dimly lit, with drinks more expensive than Caroline wanted to think about. She should have known better than to just meet him "at this address."

Her jaw set, she lifted her chin and stated, "If you can't play nice, I'll just go home."

"Oh, delightful. I'm certain you could use the company."

"_No._" Good god, he was pushy lately. So she broke a rule and cuddled with him _once_. Klaus knew her better by now; she wasn't about to compromise all her other rules. If anything, she dug her heels in harder.

Still, he persisted with that aching charm. "You already said you had no plans, love."

"So?" Caroline lifted a shoulder. "I just changed them."

"Fine by me," Klaus said calmly. Beneath the table he nudged something into Caroline's foot before downing the rest of his liquor. He rose swiftly, all jovial smiles and leers gone with little more than a gust. "You know where to find me."

"As if," she shot to his retreating back.

And yet, nursing her thus far neglected glass of wine, she was tempted. She always was. Their arrangement was ideal. Meet up in private, have sex, and most fun of all, subject Klaus to his masochistic side. The loss of control turned him on, and wielding power thrilled her. It was the perfect sexual match.

And that's _all_ it was. A sexual agreement. Two people who could come together and have fun without getting too attached.

Never mind that Klaus had clearly become attached long ago.

Caroline shook herself before her conscience could remind her of the hypocrisy whirling in her head. Refusing to polish off her wine—she hadn't paid for it anyway—she grabbed her purse and started to leave.

Her foot bumped the object Klaus had not-so-subtly kicked at her already. Casually, she crouched to pick up a nondescript black bag, with tiny lettering along the bottom.

Clutching her prize, Caroline left for home.

* * *

><p>Sleep was difficult for her that night. There were many perks to having her own apartment, but a major downfall was how wrenchingly lonely it could become. Her own glass of wine—not expensive and perfectly palatable, but <em>her own<em>, dammit—and a couple chick flicks later, Caroline still found herself restless.

And hot.

Not in an outward way, but down in that all-too-familiar place, the place her clandestine lover was most adept at pleasing. Clearly hundreds of years had given him just as much experience as confidence. How could she _not_ be drawn to him, even just a little? And once she had a taste, how was she supposed to forget how fervently he fought to please her, even in the times he became so savage in his lovemaking it could strike gut-deep terror?

Caroline kicked the sheets off. Exhaling softly, she reached down and pulled up the hem of the sheer black teddy. Despite the mesh-like fabric, it was smooth and just as comfortable as her favorite T-shirt.

Klaus had expensive taste, but damn if it wasn't equally refined.

Slipping a hand into her panties, Caroline began to rub herself. She closed her eyes, recalling the way he had shoved her down and taken her roughly the last time; how his lustful cries had echoed when she had set about whipping him with the wood-tipped cat o' nine tails. Receiving and taking pain, shooting hot spikes of pleasure throughout her body, her ears filled with the silent pants of her determined lover….

Caroline had barely increased her speed before the hand clamped down on her wrist.

Shrieking, she jerked and lashed out with her free hand. Fear of an intruder was first on her mind—though, within an instant, that fear turned to rage and she knew she could _maim_ the idiot who dared to break into her home—with sheer humiliation of being caught in a personal, compromising position was a close second.

But then her other hand was caught, and she was thrown back to the bed. The intruder straddled her, leaning down to glare at her with molten eyes.

Klaus was _furious_.

Disbelief dropped Caroline's jaw as she took in her enemy. "What—are you kidding me?" she spat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I waited for you," Klaus snarled. Their faces were so close that wisps of his hair tickled her forehead. Heat emanated from his body. "Yet you never came. Strange, isn't it? You had a free night, we have our typical spat, yet here I catch you choosing to have fun without me."

Caroline's ears went hot. "Excuse me?" she demanded. "We had no official arrangement."

Klaus either didn't hear her words or outright ignored them. He shifted so his body was lying atop hers, pressing down as she continued to struggle. "Do I no longer satisfy you, love?" he whispered hoarsely in her ear. His erection shoved insistently against her stomach, seeming to grow harder as she writhed and attempted to throw him off.

"Get—off—me," she gasped.

"I'm hurt, Caroline," he shot back with quiet rage.

And then he kissed her. His mouth was brutal and bruising, yet Caroline found herself returning affection with her tongue even as she kept fighting. How insane was she, she wondered? Klaus coming to her home was completely against the agreement. But here he was, his well-toned body grinding against her and his lips searing with anger.

Caroline tried again to throw him off, but Klaus was having none of it. He positioned his knees on either side of her hips. Despite herself she moaned in protest as he took away the most ardent proof of his agonizing need for her.

Breaking free, Klaus eyed her. "You apparently cared for the lingerie," he accused.

Barely winded, Caroline said, "You owed me."

"You make it look stunning," he agreed.

Before she could retort, Klaus pulled the hem of the teddy up until her breasts were exposed. He immediately went for one of her nipples, sucking and teasing the tip with his tongue with such ferocity Caroline immediately cried out. Rather than shy away from the intensity, she arched into it, her moans letting loose.

This appeared to excite her lover. Klaus never let up on his hold of her, choosing to switch from tormenting one nipple to the other at his leisure. Just as Caroline was about to beg him to let off he stopped. Klaus then gave comparatively chaste, gentle kisses to the underside of her breasts and down her ribs. The sensation tickled her, and Caroline couldn't hold back a gasping giggle.

"Oh my god, seriously, _stop!_" she squealed.

"Never," he breathed over her hip. After a gentle bite that hardly even dented her flesh, he added, "I intend to make you suffer tonight, sweetheart."

"Give me a break," she whispered. To her surprise, Klaus responded by _carefully_ removing the panties of her new lingerie. "Oh, what, you can't ruin _your_ things?" Despite her snark, she hurried to remove the teddy as well. If he was going to touch her then he would have all of her, plain and simple.

He smirked, at last releasing her wrists to caress her. Caroline shivered as the lightest brush across her overly sensitive nipples shot sweet pain down her spine. "That's right."

Caroline propped herself on her elbows and scowled. "So what do you call this, then?"

Klaus finally looked at her again. He couldn't hide his startled expression before she caught a glimpse, but his words were low and sincere.

"I don't own you, love. You've already claimed _me_."

That he had dared put it to words was enough to stun her into silence. Satisfied, Klaus urged her back down. When she spread her legs for him, her breath hitching at his brilliant smile, he took the hint and began kissing her. First just with his lips, and then with his tongue.

Caroline allowed her head to sink back into her mountain of pillows. To be fair, he had a point—her own hands were dull and lifeless compared to what he did to her. Pleasure pooled in her belly with a hot rush, building steadily as Klaus buried his face into her with a blissful moan.

And when he brought her over the brink of orgasm, Caroline welcomed it with a sharp cry. Yet Klaus didn't continue on to bring about another, instead rising to crush her lips again and push his tongue into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself. Caroline clutched at his back, deliberately sinking her nails in to draw blood.

He hissed quietly.

Abruptly, Klaus rolled onto his back and lifted her up with that vampire skill and speed. Though she drank blood just as he did, Caroline found herself dazed by his speed.

Fucking Originals.

She was amused to find him undoing his jeans, his shirt apparently a non-issue. Caroline had to disagree. She decided to return the favor he had bestowed upon her time and again, and tore it from his body before he could stop her.

Klaus actually paused, his pants halfway removed beneath her. His nostrils flared. "You'll pay for that," he snarled.

"I'm good for my debts." Caroline shut him up by shifting her weight down lower on his legs, leaning over until his cock was in her mouth. Hot and pulsing and filling in a strange way that, while not her favorite, still gave her an undeniable amount of pleasure. She loved how he gave in to her then, how his quest to become naked was abandoned as she had to hold his hips down when he fought to shove deeper into her mouth. Caroline stroked him with her hand as well, and with that Klaus at last expressed himself with a long, low groan.

As she continued to focus on his cock, Caroline realized she was becoming wetter and wetter. Just as he seemed to become hard when he went down on her, even if he hadn't started that way.

Giving was something awfully potent for the both of them.

Caroline only meant to pause for air. Unsurprisingly, Klaus was finished with the teasing. He yanked her back, sliding her up until his cock rubbed her soaking wet clit. Caroline moaned and responded by grinding down. Hot, slippery movements flowed between them for several heady seconds.

Then Klaus grasped her hips and plunged his cock up into her.

That initial penetration stole Caroline's breath. She clasped down on his arms to steady herself. He didn't even pause, thrusting with the perfect rhythm as he guided her hips with the motions. Caroline moaned loudly and gripped harder, heedless of her nails drawing more blood. Klaus's wounds healed rapidly, but the blood smeared over her hands as she tore him again and again. She cried out with each rocking thrust, her pleasure spiking when Klaus's determined, heated breathing intensified.

"I won't stop until you come, love," he swore.

Caroline opened her mouth to reply. With what, she wasn't certain, but it didn't matter. Her words were cut off as he tangled his fingers in her coiled tresses and pulled. Her head jerked back, her hips still forcefully guided by his other hand. Then, apparently unsatisfied with just her hips, Klaus allowed her to guide the rhythm on her own. Content to explore her body with the free hand, he roamed as he pleased. Rubbing her clit, rolling her sore, reddened nipple between his fingers, leaving deep welts across her belly and sides as he scratched her fervently. She healed just as quickly, but the sting added to her heightening arousal.

No wonder he loved her abusing him. Pain mingled with pleasure so well that Caroline hardly remembered what normal, vanilla sex felt like anymore.

All too soon Caroline came. Shudders wracked her as Klaus gave no signs of letting up, striking her with deep-set pleasure again and again. Her cries became whimpers when the motions didn't let up.

Finally Klaus's movements slowed until she sat still atop him. Both were slick with sweat and Caroline's sexual arousal, and his cock was still swollen inside her.

Once she'd caught her breath, Caroline leaned down and kissed him. Klaus responded, this time with tenderness that had been missing earlier. Something caught in her throat in that moment.

She would not put a name to it.

Instead she murmured, "Why haven't you come yet?"

At first he didn't answer. Klaus rolled her back onto the sheets, half covering her body with his as he left blistering kisses along her neck, collarbone, and swell of her breasts. When he did answer, it was without looking at her, and his voice was rough.

"It wasn't enough."

Caroline stilled. "What—excuse me?" she blurted.

He still refused to look at her, continuing to kiss her neck. Were the roles reversed, she would bite him, but Klaus didn't have that luxury with her. His bite was deadly, and the poison of his werewolf venom was not a line either of them were keen on crossing again.

Then, with the most gentle insistence, he held her down and slid into her again. Caroline's breath caught, and she was enraptured by his expression. Pure, unaccountable bliss overtook his face as he moved, slowly, so slowly that the fire smoldered between her legs until she throbbed with the need for him to be rough.

Yet when Caroline began rocking against him, Klaus would pause. Then move again. And stop when she tried to make him go faster.

"What are you doing, trying to drive me crazy?" she exclaimed from frustration.

"Shh." As condescending as it should have been, his hush actually seemed sincere. Caroline arched her back, and that he didn't stop. But he kept his thrusts slow and steady, his lips trailing across whatever part of her they could touch, everywhere but her mouth.

Somehow, despite the agonizing slowness, that familiar pressure began to build in her again. Caroline began to time her exhales with each of his thrusts into her, occasionally allowing a small whimper to escape. Klaus still made no sound but his uneven breathing. He watched her, seemed to completely drink in her nakedness with a full, quenching way he never had before. And his eyes, crazed with lust and need and affection as a turmoil of wind and rain, pierced hers in a way that gave Caroline the sensation that something had cracked within her.

This time her orgasm didn't come as an explosion; more like a rapid, tingling release of pressure that struck her momentarily blind. A single, drawn-out moan, along with a brief intensity of movement spoke of her lover's release as well.

Once Klaus was spent, he withdrew. As always, it seemed to pain him to leave her comforting warmth.

And then, Caroline realized as her head cleared, it got awkward. He lay beside her on the bed—_her_ bed. This was not allowed. No home visits, no cuddling, no affection beyond sex.

What the hell was she getting herself in to?

"You can't stay," she said, her voice strangely flat.

Klaus closed his eyes, his expression unreadable. "I'm aware, love."

"Seriously."

"I said, I heard you."

Caroline's ire peaked, but he moved before she could snap back at him. With that inhuman speed Klaus gathered his clothes and vanished without so much as a glance behind him.

And Caroline was left behind, attempting to fall asleep with sheets and pillows that smelled just like him.


	3. Challenge the Status Quo

As a reminder, I do not own Vampire Diaries/The Originals, Klaus, Caroline, or BDSM.

* * *

><p>Nearly three weeks passed before she heard from Klaus again. Three weeks since the night he intruded upon her home in a rage, fifteen days since she reluctantly washed the sheets of his scent, and far too long since she had resorted to fantasies and alone time.<p>

Now the proof of what he'd done had been literally washed away, and she was left with little more than passionate memories.

Not that another lover was unattainable. She was Caroline Forbes, known for her master planning and persistence. The fact was she simply didn't feel like going out to find new blood to satiate her needs. As a grown, confident woman, she was perfectly happy to ignore her base desires and focus on the important things. Like work, her friends, and whether or not to tip the lady who had botched her nail job.

The way she figured, her steadfast lack of need meant that when she responded to his first terse text in weeks was nothing of significance. _9:00_, was all the message read. No flirting, no cajoling, and certainly nothing to warm her up.

Which was perfectly fine, of course. After all, three weeks of just living her own life, without his stupid interferences and break-ins, was plenty of time to herself. And she'd thoroughly enjoyed it. Now she only intended to meet him because she had no plans that night.

Besides, he owed her an apology.

Her late arrival to their rendezvous dungeon was deliberate. By the way he scowled at her when she closed the door he knew what she was doing. But Caroline kept her expression cold—well, as cold as she could. He hadn't blindfolded himself prior to her arrival this time. Not unheard of, but unusual.

More curiously, he was already naked and shackling one wrist to the ceiling restraints on his own.

When Caroline still didn't make a move, he scoffed and tightened the chains himself. A tattoo of metallic clinks echoed in their sparse chamber. Klaus's arm pulled taut above his head, and he actually wound the chains in place, keeping his arm in that uncomfortable position.

Caroline aided the punishment by doing the same to his other arm. A small part of her worried as her lover's toes barely grazed the floor. Still she forced her face into a blank slate.

To her surprise, he matched her collected calm throughout the night. And it wasn't as though she was gentle with him. She slapped, whipped, and bit, avoiding only the most tender areas labeled as off-limits.

Klaus remained stoic through it all. Oh, he made noise; hissing and grunting when the pain became overwhelming. But he visibly held back. His jaw clenched, his teeth muffling any sounds that dared to escape. He didn't speak. Not once did he call her _love_ or even his Mistress. The only confirmation she had of his enjoyment was how hard he remained during his torment.

After she freed him, Klaus made no mention of staying late. Without so much as a sly offer to walk her home, he redressed and swept out before she even had her skirt on.

By the time Caroline went home she was sweaty, sticky, and frigidly unfulfilled.

Next time she initiated a meet-up. Over text, his response was his usual snarky yet charming self. He even promised new surprises awaited her. Caroline almost began to believe the last time had been a strange fluke.

His avowed surprises ended up genuinely startling her. A thick, wooden rack that appeared more torturous than sexual was propped at an 80 degree angle against one wall. Beside it was a new, cold metal slab of a table, with a couple toys of which Caroline could only guess the uses. Much as she hated to admit it, her knowledge of the implements was still in its infancy.

She didn't ask what they were for. He never offered to explain. That night she strapped him down to the rack and used the usual on him. Once again, he bit his tongue. And once again, while her physical appetite had been whetted, her chest remained painfully tight when she crawled into her own bed early in the morning.

Eventually curiosity got the better of her. Caroline waited a week, until a day she had her lover completely at her mercy.

Klaus sat in the old chair, arms splayed toward the heavens and ankles chained firmly to the shackles riveted into the wall. Lengths of metal wound around his shins, binding him to the chair. Not that it meant much, should he truly want to escape, but it was enough to make him think twice. Pulling splinters out of the back of the knee hardly constituted for an erotic night, even for them.

Before she undressed or so much as touched him, Caroline strode to the new, still unused slab table. She picked up a toy that looked an awful lot like a vibrator, except the four inch extension was encased with tempered glass. It almost looked like a long light bulb.

"What is this?" she demanded.

Klaus smirked. The movement alone gave her a jolt to realize he hadn't looked anything but bored, angry, or indifferent for weeks.

Impatiently, she said, "I already Googled _creepy light bulb sex toy_. If I knew what this was or how to use it, I'd just do it."

This time he chuckled. Caroline waited expectantly, but still he said nothing. Just gave her that antagonizing smile.

Finally, Caroline realized what was happening. For days, weeks, he adamantly refused to vocalize anything outside the cold contact of texting. And this was after weeks of silence on his end.

This entire time, he'd been _challenging_ her. Telling her what she did no longer excited him as it should. That it was all routine. That she obviously needed new toys to up the ante.

Oh, hell no.

Narrowing her eyes, Caroline turned her attention to the contraption in her hands. Buttons and a switch called to her. But when she flipped the toy on, she was startled when a particular thrumming sound reverberated in her ears. The toy didn't vibrate; it just continued that deep electrical hum. She forgot to keep a cool front and her eyes widened.

And Klaus just. Sat there. And smiled. He seemed to revel in her dawning realizations.

Choking back anger, Caroline stalked up to him, waving the toy as though it were a more formidable knife. "You are _unbelievable,_" she all but shouted. "You break into my house and you think _I'm_ the one who should feel bad?"

If Klaus could have shrugged, she was sure he would. Instead he just allowed his smirk to fade a touch.

She knew using the toy was giving in to a part of his petty scheme, but in the moment Caroline didn't care. She touched the live tip to him, viciously pleased when he jolted uncontrollably. Klaus gritted his teeth, unable to hold back a strange keening groan. Caroline pulled back and he went a little slack, his eyes boiling as he defiantly met her gaze. And still—_still_—the bulge in his jeans didn't change. Blood pulsing rapidly throughout his body reached her ears.

Electricity was a hell of a sexual weapon, it seemed.

Caroline leaned in, more than happy to match his glare. "I ought to just leave you here like this," she stated.

Klaus's mouth twitched and then, amazingly, he spoke. "Fortunately, I'm quite certain I can pleasure myself better."

The jab at her abilities shouldn't have hurt. It was low and childish. But _nobody_ had ever claimed Caroline had not satisfied them. Not since her first, and her younger, more impulsive, meaner self had made him regret doing so.

So she responded by touching him with the toy again. This time she drew nonsensical lines over his torso, not bothering to skip over his nipples or base of his throat. Klaus continually shuddered. His chest heaved in an effort to hold back sound, and his nipples hardened in response to the painful stimulation. Blood flushed his face with color.

Caroline pulled her weapon back again, turning it off so she could stand back and cross her arms safely. The air around them was different already, with the smell and feel of the air after a violent thunderstorm. She put her weight onto one foot, cocking her head. She could feel cruelty bubbling to the surface, something Klaus was awfully adept at doing to her.

"Maybe if you start calling me Mistress again, I'll forgive you," she informed him.

The currents had taken a toll on him, but if anything heated lust only turned his eyes feverish when he looked at her. Klaus continued to draw ragged breaths until he calmed himself.

"I only call the woman I respect Mistress," he said hoarsely. What lit his eyes then was closer to rage than lust. "When she returns, I will call her whatever she wishes, do as she pleases until she comes, and appreciate every apology I still owe."

Caroline's initial instinct was to freak out and tear into him. "What did I even do to you?" she snapped. "You're the one who keeps breaking the rules. We had a good thing, Klaus!"

His chest heaved, this time with an impatient sigh. Klaus's eyes rolled up, his teeth close together as he said, "If 'good' is all you can give me then I'd rather you leave."

Something about his quite manner seemed threatening. Caroline aimed the toy at him again, flipping the switch on again. "Maybe I should."

"One day you will," Klaus said. He still didn't meet her eyes, but his mouth curved in a self-deprecating manner. "But you'll go, knowing I'll still come here every week." He licked his lips. "And when you eventually realize this was what you wanted all along, you'll return—and I'll probably have given up on you."

Caroline had no response to his insane chatter. Instead she gave him another jolt, pressing the toy into his skin until he finally emitted a muffled cry.

Klaus shuddered and pulled against his restraints, the muscles of his arms swelling with effort. Pain laced his voice as he ground out, "This _pathetic_ display changes nothing."

Caroline didn't want to hear it. She retracted the toy, only to hit him with another current seconds later. Klaus's back arched sharply, his fists clenching as his struggle threatened to rip out chunks of the ceiling.

She wondered if it would bring the entire structure down on them both.

In the space she eased up on the torment, Klaus would use his spare breath to curse. Somehow this dance had become far more dangerous than it should have, but Caroline felt a reckless abandon overtaking her. Quite possibly the same kind that constantly overtook her lover, like when he ripped someone's throat out for back-talking him, or when he jumped her in her room over a month ago.

A creaking sound warned her of the chains of his restraints buckling beneath his strength. Not wanting him to get the jump on her again, Caroline knew she had to act fast.

So she tore his pants off. They hung in tatters where the chains began their winding course near his knees. Her brash move was enough for him to cease struggling momentarily, and that was all the time she needed. Caroline straddled him on the chair, never releasing her grip on the toy, pulling her skirt up and pulling her panties to the side so she could use him to penetrate herself.

Klaus tensed again, but this time his expression spoke of the things he wanted to do to her—nonviolent, explosively pleasurable things.

Caroline rocked against him. She tangled her free hand in his hair, forcing him to look at her as she pleasured the both of them with her movements. So long as their eyes locked he didn't fight her, his previous rage tempered to a smolder as his cock swelled inside of her with every grind.

She hated him in so many ways. How he had such a firm hold on her, how she could go against her better judgment and just aim to please him, utterly confounded and irritated her. But this was just as self-serving.

She'd missed the passion behind the sex. The last few silent meetings were really just the utter animal movements of a hybrid and vampire fucking. He had been cold then; dispassionate.

Now she'd gotten him riled up. He'd finally spoken to her, even if it was to rant and swear.

Caroline moaned and increased her rocking. How frustrating was it that he was better at hitting all the spots she liked? Yet he seemed excited by her complete control, growling his appreciation as he aided what little movement he could.

Panting, Caroline touched the toy to his chest again. Klaus's entire body jolted. Even his cock twitched from the shock. His loud groans were no longer muffled, his voice shaken by the trembling that overtook his body.

At last, Caroline abandoned the toy in favor of just touching him. Her fingers grazed his stiff nipple, and Klaus gave her an approving moan.

Just as he'd tormented hers to raw so many weeks ago, Caroline set about returning the favor. She pinched and pulled, pleased to see his chest bow toward her touch.

Because the need was palpable between them now, she gave in and crushed her mouth against his.

And with that the sparks turned into a blazing inferno. Caroline pulled her lover's face closer, and Klaus eagerly complied with her every move. Her grinding became frenzied until at last she discovered that sweet, hard-won tempo in just the right place, and her ensuing orgasms caused _her_ to shudder against him.

The tension in his shoulders spoke of how badly he wanted to grab her, but Caroline was intent on taking complete advantage of the situation. She broke their bruising kiss, pressing her forehead against his and staring down into his stormy eyes.

Klaus tensed beneath her, barely managing to utter, "Caroline…."

Somehow hearing him speak her name did her in. Caroline allowed herself a long, low cry as she came again. And, gradually, she slowed her rocking.

And Klaus remained still beneath her, looking both spent and insatiable. Caroline shivered at the thought of going again.

Instead she climbed off him and smoothed her skirt down, doing her best not to look perturbed. All the same, her impulsive decision had ruined a perfectly beautiful skirt, and she wasn't happy with the realization.

As though he could read her mind—and he was probably just reading her expression—Klaus snorted with amusement.

Perturbed, Caroline glanced around until she found the toy she'd tossed aside. Gingerly, she turned it off and returned it to the metal table. Then, only when she was finished cleaning, she knelt beside Klaus to release his ankles from their restraints.

After the second _click_ closer to freedom, he spoke quietly.

"It's called a violet wand."

Caroline looked up sharply. With pursed lips, she carefully unspun the chains from his legs before rising to her feet. Strangely he remained seated, eyes following her expectantly.

Carefully, she said, "I'd think it was a bit strong to sell to humans."

He looked pleased at her observation. "I may have tampered with it a bit," he admitted coyly.

She stepped forward, raising her arms toward his left wrist. "Worth it?"

His breath was warm, washing over her breasts until Caroline felt her nipples harden beneath her bra. "In the end," he murmured, "yes."

Exhaling, Caroline flashed him a smile. "Good."

Then, rather than releasing him from the bonds, she straddled his lap again. Her fingers trailed over his wet cock; eyes never leaving his face. Klaus stared back, transfixed, and he began to harden beneath her touch again. When Caroline grasped him and stroked, using their earlier release as lubricant, he used what little leverage he had to capture her mouth with his own. Caroline returned the kiss with fervor.

As much as he infuriated her, kept playing these ridiculous games, this was where she wanted to be at night.

Once her lover was fully hard again, Caroline brought her hand to her lips, holding his gaze as she tasted their combined passion. The salty and sweet mixed in the most delicious way, a taste that was uniquely _them._

Klaus glared until she offered her fingers to him. He licked them eagerly, the molten passion of his eyes lighting his entire face as they shared the results of their lovemaking.

Only when her hand was clean did Caroline release him. From just one shackle.

It was enough.

Klaus wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her close so their lips could meet again. His tongue was insistent and she gave way willingly. Caroline's skirt was completely ruined now, stained with the wet arousal that still dripped from her.

As though sensing the same, Klaus tore her skirt and panties free and urged himself inside of her a second time.

Caroline rode him, one hand pressed against the back of his neck and the other twined up his arm to tangle her fingers with his. Her lover used his free hand to rip the rest of her clothes free, nuzzling and nipping at her breasts enough that Caroline actually worried he would soon break skin.

But that was part of the thrill.

She guided his head back up, pressing her cheek against his. Rough stubble scraped her cheek as she writhed atop him. Klaus tightened his hold around her waist, somehow managing to stay on the chair as he thrust up into her until she cried out and came a second time. Their legs slipped against each other from her gushing arousal. Friction became almost unattainable, and that only seemed to heighten Klaus's intensity.

When he found his release, Caroline was nearly crushed as he pulled her body tight against his. His moans threatened to crush her eardrums, yet the echo still send shivers down her spine. Just seconds after he came, Caroline orgasmed again, the ferocity of his thrusting hardly slowing until she did.

The warm wash of bliss had barely passed before Caroline realized she had forgotten about her lover's comfort. Silently apologetic, she unclasped his final shackle. Klaus's arms fell to their sides, and he glanced at her with a mixture of anger and gratitude.

After a moment's pause, Caroline said, "How am I supposed to get home, now?"

Klaus shrugged, both his hands rubbing her waist almost absent-mindedly. "Vampire speed, love." At her incredulous look, he added smugly, "You get used to the thrill of exhibitionism soon enough."

Oh, lovely. Another kink to explore. Yet when Caroline blew out an annoyed sigh and leaned to rest her head upon his shoulder, she had the distinct feeling it would be more exciting than she imagined.

After all, a willingness to push the boundaries was what had gotten her into this erotic mess in the first place.


End file.
